


If a Body Catch a Body

by Kitsoa



Category: BIRDMEN - 田辺イエロウ | Tanabe Yellow
Genre: Birdversary2018, There's blood and violence because I love action, and I wanted to write it as a challenge, its fun but hard because logic exists and wont let me be illogical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 04:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15331329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsoa/pseuds/Kitsoa
Summary: When faced with a time-sensitive threat, Eishi is forced to come to terms with his sticky relationship with local heroics. Sure they saved those in need, but what do they do in the face of imminent carnage?





	If a Body Catch a Body

_“That's all I'd do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be. I know it's crazy."_

_Catcher in the Rye_ by J. D. Salinger

* * *

The feeling rolled through Eishi like a rumble of distant thunder. His eyes were fixed wide on a black van, tucked away in the corner at the foot of an apartment complex. Even in substantial darkness and with significant distance, he was able to pick out the car door opening-- a human figure clothed in black shuffling out with something in hand just beyond sight.

“You seeing what I’m seeing?”

Sagisawa’s voice almost blended in with the ambient noise of evening traffic. From their perch atop a neighboring building, the wind howled in a manner that echoed the brewing emotions within the resident Bellwether. Eishi didn’t look at his deputy, but he felt the pressure around them shift. The Trickster was on alert.

 “Yeah.” He said mindlessly, and he almost cursed himself for answering. Acknowledging an apparent problem was the first step in addressing a grander question Eishi did not want to think about. Even so, he was perplexed at the absolute magnetism that this scene was having on him.

Another person got out of the passenger's seat of the suspicious van, and this time Eishi got a good look at what they were carrying. And in the several months of constantly being reminded that he was in fact _not_ human, the sight of it made him certainly feel human again.

 A gun. A military grade one at that. The sight rattled Eishi out of what he assumes are some instinct inspired trance of hyperfocus.

 Sagisawa met his startled expression with a mirror of shock. He swallowed thickly. Meanwhile, the criminal scene played out below them. An additional man hopped out of the car with a shuffle of heavy gear. This was some kind of rendezvous in an obscure urban alley.

 Transfixed, Eishi’s claws curled into the metal rails of the rooftop ledge. His mind whirled with little cohesion. A lot of his effort was grappling with the blistering fear of seeing an obvious _crime--_ and a potentially violent and dangerous one at that, transpire before him. It seized into coils the human muscles under the threads of his black wing mass suit. He could almost hear the floodgates of adrenaline snap open and allow the rush of clarity into his system as it was happening.

 The Trickster surprised him by fixing a gaze to the east with a shaky breath-- towards a beacon of light adjacent to their concrete perch amidst the active nightlife of the city. A towering skyscraper, bustling with evening activity. There are _guys with guns_ several feet below them. Their bullets could definitely snipe ‘em out of the sky if they bothered to look up.

 Eishi then vaguely remembered that they had landed at their current location on Sagisawa’s request in the first place, he had said he wanted to show him something…

  _“Sagisawa!”_ Eishi snapped low, registering the blank expression and quivering jaw on his second’s distracted face. He hadn’t seen him like this since the Marionette. His features looked gaunt in the stark city lights.  

 “There’s a gala.”

  _Huh?_ “A gala? What…” He followed the Tricker’s cemented line of sight. It was one of the finer building along their skyline. Refracting windows of cold steel along it’s business-like frame that then bloomed into an arching glass dome of refined ornamentation. It was a figure in most metropolitan commerce discussion. High-end trade and brokering on one half and leagues of lawyers on the other. Tonight it was illuminated with skylights (‘Easy to dodge’ his comrades reasoned when convincing him to let them practice stealth in the urban environment). All of it oozed pomp and circumstance. _Ah._

 “Look, we can’t make any assumptions…”

 “Yes. We can.” Red eyes pierced past Eishi. Voice sharp. Sagisawa had returned to the role of witness while the figures shuffled equipment of a questionable intent around.

 They’re waiting for something… In his observations, Eishi felt a waiting question of his own.

 What were they going to do about it?

 Subconsciously, Eishi noted how hostile his posture was. His wings seemed to vibrate with an electric tension, half extended as though prepared for take off. The rumbling thunder he felt when he first laid eyes on the suspicious characters returned with an unexplainable anger. It crescendoed as his mind’s ears let in the surrounding ambient noise of the city… _his_ city.

 “How can you tell?” He asked, slightly daunted by the ferocity under his skin. Caution quelled the new beast with considerable effort.

 “Karasuma, the guns aren’t for show. Not in this country.”

 Eishi snarled. “I understand that.” How venomous the glare he’d of given to the deputy if not for the current job of consuming the actions of potential criminals. “What makes you sure this gala is their target?”

 It seemed like a question Sagisawa was unprepared to answer. His jaw clenched and he shrunk back a little.

 “I-I’m not.” He said. The confident assertions now frail, even so, there was an impossibly strong shock of fear in his expression. No, it was worry. “It’s just a feeling… A big event is an easy target don’t you think?”

Sagisawa’s sudden bow to his question made Eishi’s teeth clench. It was one of the most infuriating aspects about the intellect before him. He was remarkably spineless at times. The heir couldn’t seem to commit to any of his assertions regardless of how impassioned. The lack of confidence in someone so poised for it was a deception Eishi found hard to forgive.

Eishi narrowed his eyes as he watched the van’s driver illuminate the alley with his phone.

 “Or it’s a _stupid_ target. Sagisawa, we are not in any position to be making assumptions.” Though to be fair, if there was someone’s gut instinct to trust a Trickster keen eye was hard to deny. It was a stubborn impulse alongside contempt for his friends folding demeanor that inspired his ire. “Their target is irrelevant… we’d best just keep our eyes on them and…”

 And what? Eishi hadn’t gotten that far. Sagisawa was clearly moved by some kind of concern, but Eishi couldn’t piece through his next action with the buzzing shock of adrenaline. What responsibility did he even have in this situation?

 Were he human, he’d report to the police. That’s easy enough. Eishi pawed at the lump on his arm where his cellphone remained hidden to his person. But… that wasn’t the full story. He wasn’t human. He had power. And…

 Electricity swelled in his chest. The desire to move. A dangerous temptation.

 What if the human choice wasn’t good enough?

 "And?” Sagisawa prompted. Eishi set his jaw defensively.

 “Get more information. We don’t know what’s going on just yet.”

 If they relented to this deed, would that make them responsible for all crime or should they try to remain reactionary?

 “Understood…” Sagisawa’s eyes were still the ominous red even as his uncertainty in his hesitating leader fluctuated.

“Give me a read on their intentions.”

 “They’re angry…” He supplied, seeing something Eishi can’t fathom. Sagisawa can read an expression through the screen of a laptop. He can call out an actor from the pace of their footsteps. And he didn’t have to see the nuances of their brow to understand the motive of a bunch of loitering criminals.

 “They... they want to see someone die.” Eerie. The wind threatened to swallow his words. Sagisawa quivered with the information his instincts spoke of. “Well… a lot of someone’s die…” Eishi swallowed.

 “The leader there-- he drove the van. He’s got a frenzied sort of gait to his step. He’s motivated by some kind of higher concept. I think he’s stringing the others along based on more violence satisfying impulses… if anything this is purely calculated.”

 “What are they doing here?”

 “It’s a rendezvous point…or perhaps an operation hub. There’s anticipation… they are waiting for some kind of signal… and when that happens…”

 Sagisawa’s wings extended to match his leaders, making him loom larger. The glow from the city below casted stark shadows on his black armor. The texture is like the chiseled stone of protective gargoyle.

 Eishi let out a frustrated groan. At this point, he was wondering why he had to question these decisions so much.

 “Okay, okay. Let’s get in closer. He’s texting someone.”

 Sagisawa softened, satisfied with the answer. “At your command.”

 Eishi was skimming the alley for places for cover in the interest of eavesdropping. Despite their heightened senses, they were still victims to the auxiliary noises and the text on a phone screen was not at the definition needed to carry to their eyes.

 “I need you to go around from the south side of that building, there’s a ledge some fifty feet from the van. Listen in, find out what they’re waiting for, tweet if they make a move. Got it?”

 Sagisawa nodded, a shameful amount of excitement in his eyes. “Are you gonna rally the rest?”

 “Yeah, they should still be close to the pier. That’s about two minutes-- less for Takayama.”

 Eishi stood up giving the van another cautious glance. “Don’t get caught. I’m going to scope out the supposed target--”

 “The gala is taking place in the ballroom on the top floor. The opening remarks have already happened, so all residents are probably dining. There’s roof access, but you’ll have to break a padlock.”

 Eishi stopped dead. Sagisawa’s fierce expression only accented his surprise.

 “I’m... supposed to _be_ at that gala right now.”

 “Really.”

 “My father’s one of the major donors of that financial group. This gala is happening despite the company’s current embezzlement scandal-- a scandal that’s caused a lot of revenge worthy damage.”

 “No wonder you’re so worried. Should have mentioned it earlier.”

 Sagisawa laughed a little. “Well, you weren’t going to stop me regardless of your decision.”  
He gave an amicable clap on Eishi’s shoulder before leaning his body over the edge of their perch.

 Eishi shook the ever-present confusion for his deputy away as he spiked up his mental channel. One look at the vehicle, loaded with ammunition intended to damage and harm was enough to flare his eyes into the expansive red. The pressure mounted tangibly and Eishi closed his eyes as he felt out his range like prodding hands in the dark. The moment he reached his maximum threshold, the Bellwether made a deep, resounding call.

* * *

 The event’s location was right where Sagisawa depicted--warm, ritzy lights radiating from a pretentious dome of glass atop a skyscraper. He found constitution on the stone rim of the building and began making his way towards the roof access tuck next to the impressive dome. He took a cautionary glance through the glass and at the specks of milling gala-goers. The vast space was peppered with black ties and white circle tables strewn with fine cuisine. He caught the bottom half of a staged podium just past his vantage point. He didn’t dare get any closer despite the likely chances of someone looking up-- he wouldn’t put it past himself not to give the ceiling an ogling glance and he didn’t want to be spotted. Nevertheless, there was the muffled warble of a string quartet supplying a musical backdrop to the clatter of dining guests striking a chord of petty annoyance at that pomp and circumstances that Eishi had to smother under newly adopted responsibility.

 Somewhere in this stuffy event was Sagisawa’s loaded old man. There’d be no way to tell exactly where he was amongst the same faced regality of rich old dudes, but it figured. Eishi had to wonder exactly how up there the man was. And despite the dress code, Eishi caught the sight of the tightly dress, but rigid security detail framing the exits of the room.  

 A trickle of doubt inched through him with each gravelly click of his talons. How was it that a bunch of criminals could successfully crash this party? It’s not like they could use the elevator lugging around assault rifles… Sagisawa’s deduction might have been influenced by his initial (and understandable) worry. Speaking of which. He felt Sagisawa before he heard him.

  _“Black. We’ve got a big problem_.”

 There was a tremor in his mental voice. It immediately put Eishi on the defensive.

  _“Have you been spotted?”_ Eishi tore his eyes away from the white-collar spectacle and in the direction of where his deputy is spying.

  _“I’m fine. --Karasuma I was right about the target, but they are definitely not alone. That van was the back-up.”_

 Back-up. _Oh no._

 " _After you left they started receiving transmissions from other players. There are at least two people on the inside waiting for some kind of sign.”_

 A sign to do what.

 “ _What are we talking?”_ Eishi asked with trepidation.

  _“I-I’m not sure. I don’t like the sound of this… maybe I’ve watched too many movies but…”_

  _“Yeah,_ ” Eishi growled. _“I think I catch your drift… security looks tight from where I stand, but knowing there’s someone on the inside changes things.”_

  _“What should we do? The others are on their way, right?”_

 Eishi didn’t answer and once again felt the burn of his phone on his arm. That big ‘What If’ that spurred his current investigation was looking like a weak argument right now. The Human Response felt better.

 “ _We should at least contact authorities.”_ He said after the pause. To something positively stupid and animal, it felt like giving up.

  _“Couldn’t that call be traced back to us?”_ That wasn’t a light question. And the answer was ‘yes’.

  _“We might be able to explain away you witnessing that van without any flack, but us knowing about the insiders might be a tip they follow up on.”_  Which as super-human abominations who frequently break some kind of law, they wanted to avoid any unneeded questioning. _“We need them on the scene. Just don’t mention the event.”_ If Sagisawa held onto any kind of apprehension, he didn’t voice it.

 That still left them with a pressing matter. Eishi reattuned his focus to the large glass dome looking into the ballroom. He decided to take the risk and lean on the structure with a trepid tap of his claws. He got a better angle of the attendants for sure, most all were stationary at the many round tables, with only milling table hands and bowing violins providing movement.

 This was the sort of event Eishi held the most disdain for. Fake people with tons of fake money acting fake to make more fake things. There were so many greater things these influential people could be doing than patting each other back in elaborate displays like this. A little nervous that the glass wouldn’t take his ire-filled weight, Eishi crab-walked with his hands toward the nearest thin support beam where he learned a hand and knee.

 There was a change in the scene shortly after, someone assuming a place at the podium which naturally let the conversing guests redirect their attention. In this sudden shift he found himself zeroing in on one figure in particular-- be this a symptom of some kind of enhanced instinct or paranoia.

 One of the waiters walked toward the kitchen with purpose before taking a beeline to the restrooms off to the side, a slight hunch pushing him forward with barely contained urgency. Before he was completely concealed from view behind the pillars of the awning, the waiter put a phone to his ear. Nervous energy whipping his head back at the distracted audience and toward the reprieve from the witnesses.

 As he did so, the waiter’s left hand shifted in his coat pocket. In his paranoid rustling, that hand peaked its contents. A plastic device. A receiver...  

 A ravenous and cold monster violently jerked in Eishi’s gut.

 “ **A bomb**.” Eishi squawked aloud and it hit the channel loud.

 “ _They’ve got a bomb in there._ ” He rephrased. The panic drummed loud in his brain.

Oh man Oh manOhman

He huffed a flabbergasted inhale, feeling no effect from the oxygen. A bomb? What was this? Some kind of blockbuster film?

He felt Sagisawa’s shock rock through the channel. But he said nothing at first, waves of focus ebbing through as he listened in.

“ _He just informed the van that the chairman is on stage,”_ Sagisawa said in a low tone, an insane amount of concentration going into enhancing his ears.

 Eishi clenched his teeth, feeling a sudden nauseating weightlessness that was nothing like flying. The Trickster’s relay confirmed that the waiter was indeed the plant as no one else was on their phone. Yet now the subject was out of sight and that was terrifying. He shuddered a breath.

  _“Is that ‘the sign’?”_ Eishi pressed for more answers, but it felt like he was stalling some decision.

  _“I think so.”_

 What do they do? What do they do?

 The electricity from before pulled at his limbs and attempted rein control of his very human panic. He needed to act. There was a dangerous collection of armed criminals set to hit this room full of people with a bomb and then some. People were going to _die_. But they only helped those who cried out for help right? The ones whose voices moved their wings like magnets to poles. He remembered compromising with that instinct only for Takayama to be the source of that impulse. But now… now there was nothing, but him and a slew of future human pain. If he stepped in, what would that solve? What would he be able to do if he did? And what would a public appearance mean for his livelihood and the lives of his friends?

 The distant sound of sirens pulled him out of his internal war. They rung like moans in this urban cage. That… Sagisawa called them. The headquarters was getting snuffed. That almost always inspired rash actions. _Dammit Dammit Dammit_

 “ _Karasuma.._.” Sagisawa whimpered his warning. Eishi couldn’t breathe.

 

 **Move**.

 

A shrieking whistle of wind was the only warning. A black figure ripped into Eishi’s line of sight, slamming into the glass dome with a deafening _CRACK_!  Eishi’s foundation shattered under his claws as the guests below erupted in a chorus of screams. His center of gravity shifted and he lurched forward into the ballroom with the sparkling shower of glass. The sense of vertigo was not lost to him despite the aerial experience.

 His head rattled during the short plunge before his wings caught the air. Unstable flaps in the windless environment. Eishi bit the air in dumbfounded shock.

 “T-Takayama?” He spluttered as the birdman bullet unraveled and landed atop a dinner table, sending a flurry of fine dishes to the floor by the impact alone and dispersing its inhabitants into a stumbling clatter of persons. The erupting chaos unfolded around them. Fearful guests tripping over dresses and chairs to run from the unexpected and inhuman party crasher. Even so, among the clatter and anxious voices was the click and flash of a camera.

  **Where is it?**

 The voice rang in Eishi’s head alone. Powerful. Angry. Primal. Takayama had no time for careful strategy. He leaped off the table with an unceremonious click of his talons on the linoleum tiles.

  _“I-I don’t know! Somewhere nearby-- But there’s a detonator! He could make it blow any second.”_ Eishi switched to tweeting with an emphatic mental plea. The suspect was active and who knows what the actual plan was and what their presence meant. It could be just the trigger for him to press the button or just the distraction to stall. If anything this was borrowed time. The thought put him in absolute panic.

 Takayama pivoted to his left, grabbed an elaborately set circular table and tossed it on it’s side with a deliberate flip of his wrist. Fine glasses and china crashed to the floor, the marble filled centerpiece propelled its contents like rocks across the lake. The sparkle from the glass aided in the illusion and the nearest bystanders erupted in herd-like screams.

 “Be careful!” Eishi shouted in horror. This caught the attention of some of the surrounding patrons. Why they hadn’t retreated further was an irking mystery.

 Eishi felt safe under his mask but visibly stiffened with his hovering wingbeats. Before finishing with a tweet. _“Bombs are sensitive. Doing that could set it off….”_

 Ultimately that was the least of their worries. Eishi gave a resigned huff, allowing the anxiety to tear him away from his wild card of a comrade. He turned to the direction of the restrooms-- wedged in the opening rivets of the circular room, by the elevators and stairwells. What were the chances that the suspect wouldn’t run from this situation? Eishi performed a clean drop to the floor and rushed toward the growing crowd by the elevators.

 Why weren’t more people leaving? They weren’t exactly friendly looking. Though the real threat was a little worse than a bunch of scary urban legends. They scrambled away from him as he plowed forward. Behind him were the ‘gentle’ taps of Takayama’s bomb searching techniques-- the sound usually followed or accompanied by the crash of ignored dishes hitting the floor.

 Eishi darted his head back and forth, scanning the party guests for the potential suspicious movement of his original target. The congestion was beyond ridiculous as he neared the exits…. Could they _not_ leave?

 The simple act of walking near the humans caused some of the people to reel back as though trying to dodge a punch. They packed close to each other-- an uncertain fate hanging before them.  He worked to ignore the fear that stained their faces as he closer investigated the elevator and stairway access where a service light blinked an obnoxious red. There was drumming a little ways off where crowds of people began banging incessantly on the metal as Eishi drew closer and closer.

 They’ve been trapped.

 Eishi’s instincts screamed. Their suspicious character was most likely not in the vicinity, probably getting spooked by Takayama’s crash and using the commotion to high-tail it out… but not without ensuring no escape. And that meant, they were positively screwed.

 _“Takayama.”_ He called out. _“I hope you’ve found the bomb.”_

  **No.** Between the fearful pounding of the stairwell access, he heard the sound of china breaking, less and less restrained with each failure.

 Eishi reached the door where a collection of men in sleek suits and a few kitchen hands barely noticed his presence.  It was metal, but hardly of a design that was easy to block. An indication of meticulous planning and help.

  _“It might be time to change up our strategy then_.” No time to get clever. He needed brute strength to get past this door. He felt his presence before he heard him.

 “Yo, Black!”

 In the world of uncertainty and danger he was currently swimming in, Eishi found no challenge in accepting the flare of satisfaction in hearing Kamoda’s voice. That idiot was so dang reliable.  He was grateful to the mask that concealed his relieved smile.

 “Is U-- er, Blue with you?”

 Kamoda grunted in affirmation as he took in the scene of the small, human infested hallway. His wings were barely folded, forcing the braver and curious souls near him to take further steps back.

“Yeah, White filled us in. So there’s a bomb?”

 At the mention of that, the nearest people (who were presumably running from _them_ ) stiffened. Things were happening so fast that Eishi didn’t even think to somehow convey the proper threat (that was very very live right now). This was essentially an active hostage situation with no negotiation parameters. They clearly put some kind of wrench in the criminal’s plans, but now nothing was safe.

 “I saw the guy with the detonator go in this direction, I’m only assuming he booked it out of here.” The stairwell was the only escape option this way as he clearly busted the elevator service.

 “ _Jeez_ ,” Kamoda knitted his brow in disgust and outrage. “We need to get all these people out of here.”

 “I haven’t really checked the other exits along the other perimeter.”

  **Umino confirms that all other exits are blocked.** Takayama said, serving as the mental switchboard for the unawakened voices. That narrowed his options effectively, but also corroborated the potential of another actor as Sagisawa initially stated. Eishi felt the frustration boil under his skin, it made his wings prickle into spears at his back. He wanted to scream, this was so beyond them.

 ** _“God dammit_ ** ” He growled, his mind growing sharp and angry. He looked at the door in front of him knowing full well that the guy with the detonator was running down countless flights of steps to his getaway.

 “You get the door Green. I’m going after that son of a bitch.”

 “O.K.” Kamoda clenched his fist with a fire in his heart.  “Stand back fellow citizens!”

 His friend’s manufactured baritone rang around the onlooking throng of people. Eishi felt weak with embarrassment even as he prepared himself for the breach.

 The green birdman gave himself a few steps of momentum, the coil of his muscles were noticeable even underneath the layer of armor and he maintained the expression of focus Eishi remembered from his basketball games. With a swift and deliberate motion, Kamoda closed the distance with a powerful kick of his taloned feet. The latch caved in with a nasty dent and a harsh clattering impact.

 Damn, he was strong.

 The sight of stairs ignited a hunger in Eishi. The moment the door gave way and opened its maws to the cramped, industrial stairwell-- he found himself launching into the dim space, illuminated only by covered, buzzing emergency lights. Under his skin pumped his inhuman blood, blood that enticed a physical speed he had never before registered.

 Without even comprehending the layout of the chase’s terrain, Eishi leaped the flight to the next sub-platform of the stairwell, using the railing to pivot his direction for the next flying leap. It was a process that lurched him violently back and forth and took far too long despite clearing 10 floors in under 3 seconds. Amidst his scraping talons on the cement floor was the distant and frantic taps of a figure further down the well, confirming his target.

 He hurled himself around the railing in a tight pivot. Like hell, this bastard was getting away.

 In the time it took to close the distance, Eishi sent a quick order through the mental channel to Umino. The plan was to corner this guy on the stairwell by having her pursue him from a lower floor. Eishi’s own justification for making this chase was the sensitive nature of the man holding the detonator. If negotiations had to be made, Eishi only trusted himself to make that move. It only took about 15 floors of stairs to finally lay eyes on the character-- stumbling through inconsistent leaps of the stairs. He knew Eishi was in pursuit.

 Eishi only took a brief respite to secure his footing before launching the final distance at the bastard, tearing across the walls in coils of scraping claws. Wings pulsed against the stale air as if he was zooming through the sky. The rail groaned against his swinging weight. The stairwell echoed with his rending steps.

 And then he caught up far too quickly.

 The stairwell suddenly erupted with an unmistakable sound. The deafening boom of a gunshot that then bounced off the metal railing with a sharp clang. He recoiled back, feeling his momentum crash in his skull with a welling wave of nausea. Eishi didn’t even have time to fully halt his pursuit when the target began rattling off bullets from his concealed handgun. Instinctively, Eishi drew his wings up around him as a protective shield.

  _Of course,_ he was armed. What did Eishi expect going after this guy? He hated this. He felt a dull impact upon his wings as the mass tanked the bullets. The way the shock rippled through him caused his heart to seize with wavering trust. If he slackened focus even a little, those projectiles would slice clean through him (or so he assumed).

 The rapid-fire stopped as the man’s cartridge ran dry. Eishi felt almost numb in the absence of it before logic wrangled control of his functions, his wings whipping back and his legs lurching him forward to actually close the final distance between them in the quick reprieve.

 At that moment Eishi got a square look at the man’s face, his hands fumbling with his compact handgun, but eyes placed cautiously on his pursuer. He couldn’t read that body posture, whether it was fear or ballsy recklessness-- his disconnect from humanity never appearing so blinding until now. Eishi wound his foot back in his drop, a spell of doubt putting to question the effective power of his scrawny, non-combative kick. But it wasn’t the time to regret delegating physical skills to others. He was the idiot here who surmised that only he could effectively negotiate this pursuit and…

 Well, it turns out that Seraphim are just natural powerhouses. Eishi’s foot slashed across the man’s face, slinging him across the stairwell and down the flight, his head cracking on the concrete, the dangerous clattering of his gun joining his tumble. Eishi almost joined him with the reeling momentum but slammed into the wall with a scramble of claws.

 A different fear wormed through him as he recovered from the jerking motions. That sound…. What if… Eishi scanned below, squaring on the heap of black on the stairwell landing. He hesitated. A pool of blood starting to form and drip down the step. The feeling was cold and squeezed at his stomach. He drew closer.

 “Stay back!”

 The suspect was alive, suddenly curled upright, blood dripping from a deep gash on his forehead. In his hand was that small plastic rectangle from before, his thumb propped up on a button.

 “You move I blow this place to hell!” He yelled, not unlike the scream of a cornered animal. Eishi stared wide-eyed and frozen.

  **‘Umino.’**

 He called out. His voice strangely calm. She was supposed to be coming from the base of the building. The man saw his red eyes and thrusted the detonator higher up, clearly in pain from the fall.

 “I mean it!” And then with his other hand, he reached for his torso, ripping at his white kitchen-hand disguise. He raised his shirt to reveal a tightly packed and bulky contraption strapped to his torso with a military grade vest, coils of wires and mounds of black packages encircling a blinking device.

 Oh, Fuck.

  **‘I found the bomb.’**

 He was a suicide bomber… but that didn’t make sense, why did the ballroom get sealed if he left the target zone? Why did he initiate the plan by stepping aside? Why was there a truck of coordinating associates if he was here and everyone was there? Eishi couldn’t reason fast enough. This was the purest definition of being in over his head. Yet here he was in a stairwell alone with an unstable maniac with nefarious intentions and a bomb strapped to his chest.

 The bomber must have taken their preemptive interruption as an opportunity to split with the original ‘blow-the ballroom-up’ plan.

 The weight of this entire moment felt colossal. How could they be so stupid? What were they trying to prove? They were just kids. Stupid _Stupid fucking kids._

  **‘Umino, don’t come any closer.’**

 The last thing he needed was another loose cannon in the situation.  Eishi didn’t trust himself to let his mind stray from the frozen deadlock to confirm her location. He pierced into the now clearly scared and frantically shaking gaze of the bomber. The man flinched when the birdman slowly lifted both hands up in pacifistic surrender like one would wade through mud. He commanded the mask the slither away from his mouth, the sight of which setting the already hostile personality more on edge.

 “D-don’t try anything!” He threatened, hands shaking on the detonator.

 Eishi swallowed his own fears and spoke low. “What are your demands?”

 The human looked surprised that he spoke his language. A fact might have damaged some sort of cosmic security he held with his hybrid existence if not for the more pressing situation. The admission of surrender from the mysterious creature washed the human’s posture with uncertain relief and he cracked one of those defensive huffs of air between a crooked twitch of his lips. “What even the hell are you…?” He muttered. “That ‘birdman’ all them kids are talking about?”

 “What,” Eishi said again. “Are your demands?”

 There must have been something fundamental in the man’s instinct that returned his fear at the growl in Eishi’s voice. Meanwhile, the birdman grappled with a seedling of a plan. A really stupid one. The criminal spluttered before regaining a semblance of coherency.

 “I-I’m looking to get out of here.” He said, throwing his voice with a deep thuggish accent. A chink in his resolve to pull the trigger?... No, he was too excitable, he could just as easily let it blow on a knee-jerk reaction. “I’m all for screwing this good for shit company for ruining my life, but I don’t think I’m wanting to die for them just yet.”

 Eishi raised an eyebrow to challenge him. Last minute cold feet was a hard turn to justify with these kinds of stakes.

 “B-but don’t test me.”

 The scene was starting to change in tone. All the danger and threat of immediate death with none of the respect. Did he want a hostage situation? Eishi was not a good hostage choice and that was written on the walls.

 “What if…” Eishi responded. “What if I could give you a clean escape?”

 It was the human’s turn to raise an eyebrow at him. He snarled in hostility. “The fuck you trying to say? What are you, some kind of demon?”

 Eishi kept his chin low, working hard on splitting his focus for the sensitive conversation and his infantile plan.

 “Let’s just say I was human once myself.” Eishi conversed. He had to string this man along. Fortunately being a living urban legend made every word a goldmine to the curious and the desperate.

 “What…”

 “You double-crossed your associates by abandoning your original plan. There are probably droves of police officers waiting to lock you up at the base of these steps. In any case, death is the ultimate answer here. There’s no safe option for you after this… well… except for _‘up’_.”

 “... ’Up’? What do you mean?”

 By god was he slow. Eishi took his intrigue as an opportunity to shift his position. Slowly he uncurled his wings, extending them as wide as the narrow room would allow. He was really going to do this…. He presented his hand forward toward him, phantom images, memories of similar claws outstretched towards himself in a bloody sunset among the wreckage of a bus.

 “Do you want to live? Or do you want to die?”

 The red glow of his eyes, his expression unreadable and dark.

 And the fearful, desperate man was captivated.

 There was a brief moment where something human in Eishi clenched in anguish. He could almost smell the smoke from the bus’ destroyed engine, hear the ignorant crash of the ocean waves on the debris-littered coast, feel his own blood soak his white uniform shirt from the railing impaling his abdomen… but this time he was looking down on the scene… and no amount of altruistic honesty in his question could belie the reality of intent. Selfishness. Manipulation. It was sickening.

 Eishi snapped into motion. A tendril of wingmass tossed the man’s gun from off the ground and into the air. Like a striking viper, Eishi snatched it into position, cocked and loaded. But there was no time to hesitate, no time to gape at the deadly weapon in his hand, nor to contemplate the details on safety or accuracy-- not even a moment later Eishi fired, aim unimportant.

 The first thing he noted was the kick, which coiled his hands out of composure by virtue of sheer surprise. The explosion of the firing gun echoed like mad in the resonant space and was followed quickly by the warbled clip of the bullet bouncing off the concrete walls.

 Good. All the reassurance he needed.

 Eishi launched himself toward the bomb-strapped man and slashed sharpened claws at his outstretched arm with the propped detonator. An animal scream escaped the human as those talons dug through clothes, skin, and muscles, releasing the device from spasming fingers while blood pooled and coated his white sleeves red.

 Mind a haze and buzzing from the absolute disbelief of his current actions, Eishi wound his other arm back. He couldn’t place the nature of the mad panic behind his snarl, or the hot-cold energy beneath his skin. Instead, he swiped his hand across the man’s chest like some kind of beast. The formal vest and dress shirt tore clean, along with the thicker woven material underneath it.

 At this point, the human was struggling and kicking, much larger than the cryptid, but already on the floor and pinned by looming sharp, blade-like wings. Eishi lurched at his bucking kicks as he worked the vest free, ignoring the angry yelps of pain when his claws sliced too deep. Frustration bloomed. Blackouts were nothing to this.

 Already past the point of reservations, Eishi gave a yell of frustration at the man’s struggles which resulted in a retaliating squeeze of his flesh encased claws and a slam of his knees upon his hips. Wingmass kept the man’s freehand from mangling his face but it was harder to keep things away from his face when his tethers came from his back. The human managed to work against his binds with a wild lurch. In one savage jerk, he grabbed a fistful of Eishi’s hair and yanked _hard._

 Eishi screamed in pain, feeling it fill the channel with roaring static.

 This was supposed to be the moment where he, the leader, the bellwether, commanded his troops accordingly. Where he sent the marching orders out calmly, with a precision he could almost pride himself on. Dear lord this was an absolute disaster. Alone, no backup, no real combat prowess, no proper intel, and no time.

 And no rules.

 Eishi howled, forcing his head back while pulling the man’s grip along his scalp with him. And like the trigger he fired just moments before, Eishi snapped his head forward, right into his skull. The crack was both heard and felt, white-hot pain jolting like lightning throughout his entire body.

 He physically bounced from the impact instantly blind from the blow, but suddenly free of outside resistance. Moans escaped his mouth while the word spun with needle-like static. It hurt so fucking bad he needed to scream _fuckfuck_

 He couldn’t stop the gibberish cries of pain as it lingered. He cradled his aching scalp, his sight only now starting to focus. He felt something wet upon his crown, realizing that he had managed to unhook himself from his vice grip on the human and was now smearing his blood along his face. He heaved a shallow breath as he let his vision focus on the body underneath him, completely limp.

 He shuddered.

 Removing the bomb vest took no time after that.

 Umino found him not long after, sitting on the stairwell of the 42nd floor of the massive skyscraper, staring at the unconscious and bleeding pile of person at his foot. A loaded vest slid to the corner of the landing like an afterthought. From his talons dripped human blood that also trickled along his face. Behind the curtain of red were dark eyes staring off into the rugged texture of the walls. His shoulders were slumped and tired. His jaw slack and wordless. He had never looked so small.

 They left by shattering the nearest window outside the enclosed emergency staircases. Wings unresponsive, Eishi’s exiting flight was stabilized by Umino firm grip. Her concerned gaze never registered with him the entire way to the impromptu meet-up location. She couldn’t shake the unease she felt from his agonizing scream and vacant expression.

 

* * *

 Eishi didn’t go home immediately. The sound of ocean waves easing against the small coast of the familiar islet threatened to associate with different memories. He clung to the discomfort as he focused out onto the yellow glow of the city horizon. Did he expect anything else? Did he learn anything from this encounter?

 Takayama’s arrival was as stealthy as one would expect. The ease by which he released himself from the brisk winds and ushered his winged form toward him was otherworldly. Eishi didn’t want to face him. He didn’t want to address the rolling questions and accusations within himself, much less witness the frustrating smile on his sire’s face.

 “You did well tonight.”

 He didn’t want to hear that. Takayama’s soft voice was almost drowned by the ambient coastal noises.

 “There was nothing good about it.” Eishi’s voice was froggy. A spark of ire bubbled in his chest as he spoke. It was the most potent emotion he had allowed himself since the haze of adrenaline left him.

 “You saved all those people.”

 He said things so matter-of-fact. There was nothing to read in between the lines. It made Eishi paranoid and hostile. Enough to spare a side glance to the knowing look in his red eyes. The smile on his lips was almost a subtle parody of the genuine feeling. Perhaps it was pride?  

 That conclusion made the anger spin faster in his gut.

 “I can’t help but think they would have been just fine if we hadn’t shown up.”

 “The police would have killed the bomber. It was the best scenario.”

 A bitter laugh hiccuped through him. It was so hollow it actually left him aching. “I guess that’s easy for you to say. The guy wouldn’t have gotten away if you hadn’t charged ahead.” His accusation held none of the venom he felt in the heat of the moment. Turning the topic towards him was a pathetic move and it only added to the mass of shame Eishi was mulling through.

 Takayama didn’t respond. His face was still visibly pleased. He felt no need to defend himself. That confidence deflated Eishi’s indignancy.

 “But I guess… there wasn’t another option…” He tore his gaze back toward the city he attempted to vigilante just hours ago. All those people… were they grateful? Did they do the right thing? (And for who was is right…?) Why was he worried about that detail of all things?

 “You wanted to save them.”

 Was it a question? Eishi didn’t really care.

 “I didn’t want anyone to die.” That was a little different right?

 “You didn’t turn your back on them.”

 Eishi shook his head. The city was starting to burn its image into his eyes. “That’s nice and all but it doesn’t mean I did the right thing. Who knows what those people were thinking the entire time? What’s the point if we are just villains in the end?”

 The animal screams of the bomber jerking and bucking under him filled his mind. The feeling of his flesh around his claws. The cold dread as the blood pooled around his cracked skull. The earsplitting shock of the gun going off in his hands. Eishi shriveled, something thick and cold choking his windpipe.

 There was only a subtle shuffle beside him. The scraping of stone as Takayama found a perch to lounge upon.

 “Does it really matter?”

 His words didn’t provide him with any warmth. Nor did they intrude upon the fragile infrastructure of his emotional well being.  It was like he just-- took a picture. A picture of this not-human kid who may have saved some people, but could just as easily hurt them but who even knows. It was funny really.

 “I guess not.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birdversary! 5 years strong! I collaborated with tumblr users bird-pun and silversaucekai who drew fanart for this fic!  
> [View it here!!!](https://bird-pun.tumblr.com/post/176019103658/aand-my-final-birdversary-2018-entry)
> 
> I wanna thank them for all the encouragement and ideas as I plowed through writing this. It was super challenging at times, but I am rather pleased! As you can tell it could have gone down so many avenues and I was honestly discovering them along the way myself. Logic was a vicious battle the entire time and its reflected in Eishi's turbulent thoughts. 
> 
> Title's a reference to Catcher in the Rye which is one of my favorite literary classics and the main character shares similar themes to Prologue Eishi. Title in question is the main character’s interpretation of a Robert Burns poem where he imagines himself saving ‘all the children’ who are playing in the rye– catching them from falling off a cliff. It’s a testament to Holden’s naive sense of heroism and a parallel I wanted to draw with Eishi in this great heroic test I put him through.


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